


Inconsequential Blues

by ThatSoChangeableChick



Series: Lovin' the Batfam Fluff [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Robin: Son of Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bat Family, Batcave, Brother-Sister Relationships, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne is Robin, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSoChangeableChick/pseuds/ThatSoChangeableChick
Summary: There is an intruder in the Bat Cave. Helena Wayne is no sister of Damian Wayne.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> Here's another one-shot,  
> Confession - I haven't actually read Helena Wayne in the Comics. Except from mentions or an appearance that everyone said was OOC so, I don't know~! I just wrote it because I want to add Helena in later fics and now was as good as time as any to learn how to write her. I like how she came out,  
> So tell me if you did too!

There was someone new in the Cave. Someone Damian was not familiar with. He didn't approve, since this was his Bat Cave, he was Robin and it fell to recollection that he should be aware of all the occupants inside it. Except he hadn't even heard this villain enter. And yes, they definitely were a villain.

He'd launched, landed opposite and brandished his short sword, "Who are you?" Damian demanded.

The villain had tanned skin, dark raven hair curling atop shoulders, a penchant for purple and a tight skirt, high heels and cold, clear blue eyes that twisted Damian's stomach. It appeared familiar, except Damian couldn't pinpoint where and that…irked him.

The villain smirked, painted lips cocked to the side, hip jutted out as she surveyed Damian.

Then, the villain uttered, "Your sister, short stuff." Her voice was surprisingly deep, graveled by previous rage and Damian found those eyes again. They were his Father's in a stranger's face. He swallowed, stance hardened rather than relaxed. He'd fight for his place in Father's life. He would. "Name's Helena. Wayne," the villain misspoke, looking around the Cave a little, "Bruce said I should meet him here. Has a job for me?"

"We do not require your assistance," Damian declared.

Helena hummed, "Uh huh." Side-stepped Damian, peered up at the Bat Computer, noted Bat Cow in the distance and huffed. Bending over to enter in a password to the Bat Computer, scrolled for mission reports and folders. "You know where your dear old Dad is?" Helena asked, as Damian followed, sword still brandished.

This imposter may act like she belonged but Damian knew. He wouldn't remove his guard. "I thought he was your Father, as well," Damian jabbed, tried to make her falter. Helena barely glanced at him, typing out on the screen. Helena was almost as irritating as Todd. At least Drake understood the seriousness of his threats.

"He is –" Helena focused on satellite footage, zooming in before reading off decoded bullet points Father had recently typed out, " – Just a different version of him. You didn't know?" Helena arched a brow, purposely staring inquiringly at Damian in a way that unsettled his stomach. He had seen the twitch of that mouth somewhere else, and the combination of Father's eyes with it nearly broke him into a cold sweat.

Of course, Damian had known. Huntress was affiliated with Batman and Robin. Had known her alias, names, hunting ground and affiliates, definitely not in depth – in a line of near countless associates – Helena Bertinelli was inconsequential. Or, he'd assumed Helena was inconsequential. Damian would battle for his rightful place at Father's side if Helena so wished.

His hard silence answered and exasperated comprehension and vague pity looked back. His grip tightened on the sword and Helena turned back to the Bat Computer. "You'll get used to it," Helena muttered, typing controls into the Computer for further information. "So, I thought there was a no battle policy unless on the training mat, short stuff." Unaffected by the weapon brandished at her delicate side.

Oh, how he wished to prove Helena was ill-equipped to face Damian. Except the Batmobile chose that moment to roar into the Bat Cave. Helena barely glanced back, clear eyes flickering over the information in calculation. Damian hated that he recognized it. He was the blood son. Helena was still inconsequential.

His blade slunk into its holster. He slightly fumed over Helena's smug smirk, despite Father walking up beside the both of them to look at the information Helena was adding to the report. "You went to the hideout?" Father asked without preamble. Helena hummed in affirmation. Still typing as Father read over her shoulder.

He might've as well have been a ghost. His jaw clenched, tightened even as a sharp stab scratched in his throat. This was his Father. If he could fend his adoptive siblings off Father's attention, he could do it with an estranged, absent and inconsequential blood daughter. "Father," Damian decreed.

Father hummed. More a grunt than Helena's, though infliction remained the same. It was 'I am listening but I'm more focused on this, than you' inflection and Damian hated it. He was worth more than this sister he hadn't even known about. This sister that Mother hadn't even mentioned, because she was so inconsequential!

"Father," Damian demanded, "We have a patrol to begin, do we not."

That finally diverted Father's attention to him. Except it would lack. "Not today, Robin. There's a case with Huntress that needs to be finished. Finish your homework, in the meantime, all of it." Father indicated the folders he had yet to memorize, the blueprints he had yet to inhale until he knew them from the drop of a hat. It's just – he didn't require them at that moment, and if he did, he could always look at them later.

At the moment, there were other, more pressing concerns. Such as a blood sister he hadn't known existed. Grayson should've known. Grayson should've told him. He swallowed, "What of Clayface?" Damian insisted. He had escaped his prison only three days earlier, Batman and Robin had been on his trail, despite it having gone cold Damian wouldn't let it die out altogether.

Behind his cowl, Father frowned, as if he didn't approve of how Damian pushed this, "We can't move before he trips our alarms, Robin." Damian had forgotten of that. Except it didn't matter. Weren't there other crimes they should end? Why did this case with Huntress take precedent? Batman and Robin didn't rest, awaiting danger; they prevented it.

Helena frowned, "I don't get you, not-dad." Her arms and ankles folded, leaned back on the Computer Console to unfearfully stare up at Father. "You have more kids here than back home, and you do this –" she wiggles a languid, manicured finger at Father's face, " – you should have more experience to know better."

Father's head tilted, in what Damian had come to understand as silent comprehension or calculation. His not-sister was in no right to confront Father. Helena exhaled, near throwing her hands up and walked off, "I added my two cents. Spend time with short stuff. If you need me, you know where I am." Helena waved off.

This was pity. His cheeks flushed, fists clenched but Helena remained unaffected, unwilling to pin her choice on Damian despite her words. Helena straddled her motorcycle, in what seemed in impossible practice due to the tightness of her skirt and drew a leather jacket on. "Helena –" Father began to call back, or an insistence question left.

Damian couldn't read Father as well as Helena appeared.

"I'm not dropping off the face of the Earth, Bruce," Helena reminded, dull sorrow in her clear blues – that too struck familiar, and he felt a vague stab of jealously that he'd received Mother's coloring instead of Father's. " – I'll pop in for breakfast or lunch, sometime. I'll keep you posted if I find anything else," Helena saluted, stuck a helmet onto her head and zapped out onto the road.

Her blackened and purpled motorcycle barely hummed as she whirred off. Damian felt abandoned to tidy the mess Helena had wrought with Father on his behalf. It wasn't fair. His absent sister read Father better than Damian could. Worse even still, if Helena noticed what Damian wished than Father definitely did. No self-discipline and restraint had helped with a perfect stranger of Father's blood, so obviously, Father witnessed it too. And, purposely didn't answer it.

That – It wasn't a punishment Damian expected.

His head bowed, jaw twanged as his mouth grounded into a semblance of strength. "Damian," Father intoned, exhaled with it and braced a gloved hand on Damian's hair. He froze and dodged from underneath it. He didn't require Father's pity.

"Way- _Bertinelli_ does not know of what she speaks, Father," Damian decreed. His chin lifted high, chest puffed out, a stance full to accomplish whatever Batman deemed of him. Except if Helena truly did leave a mission for the taking then Damian would seize it. "I'm more suited to accomplish this mission over Bertinelli. Let me finish it," Damian demanded.

Father deflated and lifted, blanketed cape swayed downward, "Fine. Get in the Bat Mobile –" Damian nodded an affirmative, already headed towards the vehicle, " – I'll drive," Father said. He stilled as Father did a final read through Helena's additions to the file. If this was misplaced pity due to Helena's words Damian would have no part in it.

"I'm perfectly capable of ridding a single burgeoning gang from Gotham Streets, Father. I neither want nor require a babysitter," Damian growlingly reminded. Father stilled and Damian's chest seized, he read Father enough to know there was frustration or irritation in that sight. It didn't matter, Damian was not a child to be coddled. No matter what any of his siblings believed.

No matter what Father believed.

"I know," Father decreed. His voice graveled albeit tenderer, as though he wished Damian to truly understand this. Father turned off the Bat Computer and crouched to face Damian. Even behind the white lenses, Damian spotted the clear blues that Helena had inherited.

How hadn't Damian known Father had another blood child? That wouldn't be Damian's fate. Forgotten and absent; inconsequential to Father's life. He would be Batman, whether he had to beat Cain for the role or Father decreed it such.

Father and Helena's blues differentiated. Helena's never gazed at Damian, as though Damian's very existence before him made him blessed. As though Damian was precious to look at. Father's blues smiled. Even as his mouth did not. "I'm not a babysitter, Damian. I'm your father," Father declared. His tried to divert his gaze but Damian was sucked back in. It was good – better than he'd anticipated – to hear that confirmation.

Father stood. Ready to leave, with or without Damian. Except Father preferred the former, rather than the latter. He allowed a squeeze to his shoulder, relieved beneath it. Grayson appointed Damian Robin for a reason. Father had continued Damian's draft for a reason.

Damian was Robin. His Father's Robin.

"There's a new crew in Gotham. A task for Batman and Robin," Father smirked at Damian, "If you're up to it, that is?" That was a simple ploy that Damian willingly dove into each time. Now wouldn't be any different. Father launched into the Batmobile, the roaring engine beginning to upset the bats above.

Damian huffed. He descended after his Father, locking his seatbelts as the roof closed above them, and Father's smirk was illuminated in the dim light of the Bat Mobile's screen. Their screen filtered a version of the Bat Computer's relevant data, their trail to the location and the Bat Mobile's status. Father swiveled the wheel and Damian knew that this is where he belonged.

Whether he had Father's blues or not. Father had chosen Damian. Not just as Robin but as Father's son. That was more important than anything that happened around that fact. For certain his siblings were irksome, Gotham was cold, the food was peculiar, moral teachings were slow – like wadding through tar – but Damian had learnt enough to be expectant for the future. His future as Robin and Damian Wayne.

It was more exciting than he liked to admit.

**Author's Note:**

> ~tell me if you liked it, what you did - that sort of shtick! ~


End file.
